Beetlejuice: Origin
by Valkyrie4
Summary: Ever wondered how Betelgeuse died in the first place? This is how i think it happened.


Beetlejuice: 

Origin

(A/N: I'm writing this short one-shot since I'm struggling with my other Beetlejuice story (cries) I need an insight into the minds of the Beetlejuice cartoon characters – such as Prince Vince, Judge Mental, Scuzzo and so on – I haven't seen the cartoon for _years_ and I can't remember how they act and behave. So if someone would be oh-so kind as to supply me with the info, I will be forever grateful. Thankies!)

A man, sitting on the straw-lain, cold brick floor and hunched over in the corner, his pale face and sunken eyes stared blankly at the wall of his cell, which had become his only world for most of his life. His name had been thrown to the winds, he was only known as "Betelgeuse", because he had an unsightly appetite for beetles and whatever unfortunate insects managed to fall into his grasp. The year and day were lost to him; the only things he took notice of were whatever was in his line of vision. No one knows how he got there, or when, but he was a big problem. Violent, quick to anger and deeply neurotic, Betelgeuse wasn't a model patient, he'd beaten his carers and his fellow inmates several times, one time he killed a woman patient for being too close to him. The carers didn't punish him for it, it was just one less to look after.

His mind is a twisted Hades, unwittingly contorting everything he sees so that he depicts it as a threat to himself. Having no parents and being abandoned from an early age, Betelgeuse never knew love, or had a family, he never had someone to care for him the way he needed it; he only had himself. Living in dank gutters until he reached late-twenties, Betelgeuse slowly regressed into himself, he never spoke, never showed any emotion except rage when enticed by other inmates, he was locked in the asylum when he attacked a passing villager, biting his face and tearing some flesh away. As the black plague ravaged and destroyed lives outside, but inside the asylum, the disease hadn't had much of an effect on the people residing there.

There was only the one window in his cell, a small rectangular-shaped hole in the cold stone walling, it let in very little light and even less fresh air. The atmosphere was always stuffy and putrid, it smelled badly but it was hardly noticeable once you got used to it, like Betelgeuse had. Shadows filled the room, making it an endless void of darkness. Bats and insects fluttered in and out of the hole in the wall, the moaning of the sick and dying rang through the air, but still he stared at the wall, still he hid in the shadows, afraid of anyone and everything but the insects. The insects that gave him sustenance, gave him strength, gave him life.

Scared…he was scared. Scared of what would become of him if he let others near him, what would happen if he spoke, told someone what he thought; scared what would happen if he carried on like this.

_They'll only hurt you._ He told himself. _Everyone will hurt you, like they always have._

When he was a child he was beaten by those who saw themselves as being higher than he was, adults and children alike. He would allow himself to be beaten in exchange for food, but most of the time he would not get what was owed, just what was promised; a beating. It was then that he stopped trusting other people; it was then he stopped begging for food and money, it was then he found the insects.

The night was cold, still he found warmth in the shadows; he found sanctuary. An insect scuttled across his lap, without giving the creature even a glance, Betelgeuse snapped it up and jammed it into his mouth, crunching its hard outer shell with his discoloured teeth.

The night was cold, yet he found warmth in the shadows. The shadows were the only thing that offered him comfort, offered him love.

'Betelgeuse…' A carer summoned through the wooden door. He ignored. 'Betelgeuse…' He called again. The man in the corner still ignored. 'Betelgeuse!' He quickly got to his feet and shuffled to the door. A wooden bowl filled with pale liquid was pushed through the letterbox opening, Betelgeuse took it and greedily drank all of the liquid before pushing it back from whence it came. He always responded to his name the third time it was called, no one knew why, but he did.

Betelgeuse shuffled back to his dark spot in the corner and sat on the thin layer of straw. He stared into the blackness like he'd been doing for years on end without fail, he saw things that no one else did; he could see shapes, beings…_monsters. _All of them hidden within the shadows, no one else looked, no one else could see, but he could; he always saw. Maybe that was why he was here, in this cesspit.

Day in, day out, the shapes in the darkness taunted him, mocked him for being the way he was. But he ignored them like he ignored everyone else, they were just voices…weren't they? As he stared into the dark that surrounded him, he could see only one thing, a tall thin creature darker that the shadows themselves. It towered over him and reached down, as if to help him up. Betelgeuse held out a hand to touch his dark companion, the creature lashed out at him, cutting his arm. He cried out in pain and attacked the creature, only to pass straight through it, slamming into the wall opposite. The creature cackled insanely and hacked at him again with its long claw-like fingers. Betelgeuse cried once more, but this time from terror, he was afraid of the ominous being.

The man quivered in the corner like a small child as his skin was torn several times by the creature. Blood flowed freely from his body, staining his ragged clothes. Then, the monster stopped, stepping back from Betelgeuse. The terrified patient lowered his arms from his face and stared at the being.

'Betelgeuse…Betelgeuse…Betelgeuse…' The creature hissed, skulking across the room and disappearing into the wall. Betelgeuse gazed at the wall for several seconds, what was that? It had to be real…right? He looked down at his gashes and bloodied clothing; he knew that creature was as real as he was, as the insects. Another shadow passed over the wall. Betelgeuse screamed, thinking it was the creature returning. But the shadow disappeared as he raised his voice. More came, passing back and forth like pedestrians on a busy street. Betelgeuse watched as each one flew past him, brushing by him, going through him.

Each time a shadow passed through him, he felt cold, he felt revived; he felt _alive_. More and more the shadows passed through him and more and more he felt akin to them, the family he never knew; his brethren. He laughed; not knowing what laughter was, having never experienced it. It was a joyous feeling to have these shadows pass through him. As their numbers grew, so did his knowledge of where his companions were from. A place, unlike this cruel and callous world, a place of freedom a place of sanctuary…a place of darkness and shadows.

Betelgeuse stood; he wanted to be with his family, he wanted to be happy. He knew the price of entry into the shadows, and he would pay anything. He glanced at his thin, bony hands; his nails had grown just under an inch in length, having not worn them down for a long time. Betelgeuse laughed as he dug his jagged yellow nails into the veins in his left wrist, and cackled as he did the same to his right. Blood spurted like a fountain from both wounds. He fell against the wall, dizzy, but still laughing. The world around him became a haze; the shadows surrounded him completely as he fell to the cold hard floor. The patient looked up, smiling for the first time in his life. The creature that attacked him stood over him, it reached down, and helped him to his invisible and ethereal feet.

(A/N: And that's how I think Betelgeuse died in the first place! Hope you liked it and like I said, any info on the personalities of the cartoon characters would be very helpful, thanks!)


End file.
